


will nature make a man of me yet?

by naught (orphan_account)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, i honestly don’t know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 21:55:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21043394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/naught
Summary: two rainy days, same happenings, years apart.





	will nature make a man of me yet?

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta-ed

On a cloudy day outside, a rather young lad on his bicycle stares at the sky.

On the other side of the hill, their house sits, small and comfortable.

No one’s roaming the streets, not a single lady with her laundry, not a man with his briefcase, no one. Except for a boy.

Cars pass by frequently, but none ever stop by the town.

The boy hums to himself, the grass blades on the hill softly crushed as he stops. The hissing sound coming from the front causes worry and folds the skin between his eyebrows.

He slowly approaches the tire, scanning the perimeter. There’s a pin stuck in the rubber, with a huge slit trailing behind.

“Rather unfortunate.” Seokmin states, staring at the slowly flattening rubber. His house is only a few more miles ahead, on the other side of the hill, it won’t take him long to get there by walking.

After minutes of examining the surroundings and concluding that the pin was just a simple inconvenience, possibly from an office worker’s case. He says he’s going to be fine.

It rains.

The pour is heavy, splashing onto the asphalt of the road, slowly removing the white line of paint.

Seokmin is drenched, shivering hands clutching onto his bicycle’s handles. He smooths his hair to the side, he’d rather see the beauty of the rainfall.

Until a Ford Falcon beeps at him from behind, it was when his heart had almost stopped. The vice grip he had on his bike handles go gentle, resulting in almost dropping the thing.

“Hey, uh, would you like a ride?” A boy, possibly younger than Seokmin, asks from the open window of the passenger seat. He struggles in blocking the stray raindrops away from bouncing to his face and inside the car.

“We’d rather have you wet the leather than let you get hypothermia out here, it’s bound to thunder later.” A lady, maybe in her late thirties, shouts through the loud sounds of the rain.

“Uh, thank you, miss, lots. But, my bike…” Seokmin radically gestures to the bicycle he’s supporting. He even bows a bit as a sign of gratefulness.

“There’s a lock installed on the cover of the trunk. I reckon you’d know how to operate it? We live just a few blocks farther on the other side, so there’s a big possibility that the lock I’ve gotten for Seungkwan’s bike is the same as yours. Be quick, dear, we don’t want you with a cold.” The lady shouts through the car’s open window again, to communicate with Seokmin.

He rushes to the trunk, in a speed where he’s sure he wouldn’t slip. Luckily, the lock is actually the same one he uses. It brings a strangely home-y feel to his chest.

Once he’s safely seated in the car, he’s given a towel to dry up his hair and his face.

“Thank you lots, once again. Perhaps, I could help with cleaning the car after the rain clears up?” Seokmin bows again, for reasons unknown to everyone present.

“We’d rather like that, dear.”

Seokmin gets a cold while being passive-aggressively scolded, and the storm doesn’t clear up in the next few days.

🌻

Seokmin is in shorts and a loose shirt, pedalling around the town on his bicycle.

The wind is rather strong today, as the forecasts projected yesterday. Perfect for a few loops around the area.

Ideally, Seokmin has his assignments and projects finished early. But sadly, it’s only a work of fiction conjured up by some messed up author, Seokmin. His projects sit on his desk in his laptop, each a blank Word document, while he goes frolicking around in the salty air of downtown.

Maybe it’s not the sea, but the heavy rainfall looming around affecting the air.

It rains.

Seokmin’s bike is fine, unscathed, but the roads aren’t. They’re rather slippery and rubber can only cling to so much.

Cars pass by, but they never stop.

His sloppy fringe is swept to the side, his whole body is drenched.

Just as he was walking to his apartment on the other side of town with his bicycle in tow, a beeping comes from behind and makes him jump.

Seungkwan runs out to him, almost slipping if Seokmin hadn’t gripped his shoulders.

“You still haven't learned your lesson, have you?” Seungkwan smiles at him, cheeks bunching up and eyes forming semi-circles.

“What lesson did I learn?” Seokmin jokes, encasing Seungkwan in his arms and dropping his bicycle to the sidewalk.

“You’ve bulked up, Seok.” The boy says, muffled into Seokmin’s neck.

“D’you like it?”

A silence looms over their figures. Only tatters of rain is heard and the chatter coming from the different shops around.

“You’re warm, but also soaked. Let’s get you home.” Seungkwan pulls away from the hug but doesn’t let Seokmin’s hand go.

Seokmin never realized they held hands while hugging.

He gets dragged to the back of Seungkwan’s Ford Falcon, inherited from his mother, to put his bike inside the trunk.

They hurriedly run inside the car after everything’s locked up and fine in the back.

“How’ve you been, Kwannie?”

“It’s been a long while, Seok.”

They laugh at their antics, talking over each other simultaneously while unplanned is challenging, but it comes as a habit for both of them.

“Mom says she’s missed you, you didn’t get to eat the pie she made for you last year because you’d already left for college. Was home really that oppressive?” Seungkwan glances at him while naturally driving to his apartment, directions engraved in his memory.

Seokmin gestures here and there, shrugs and constant chin scratching. “Possibly, after I left, I seemed to breathe fine. Minus the emptiness leaving you lot behind. But I remembered, university isn’t permanent and I’d eventually come back.” He scratches his head, a blush creeping up his neck and progressing onto his ears.

“That’s so cheesy.” Seungkwan smacks him and laughs at the faux pained expression on his face.

Slowly, they’ve arrived.

Seungkwan just unlocked the doors and is gathering his belongings, “Whatever,” Seokmin opens his door. “Dibs on your shower.” Seokmin runs inside the apartment, leaving a trail of rainwater on the floor to be wiped.

Home.

**Author's Note:**

> hopefully whomever read this liked it! it’s just my brain goo hung up on the first few lyrics of [the smiths - this charming man](https://youtu.be/cJRP3LRcUFg). title from that song, too.


End file.
